


Drabble Collection

by badass_normal



Category: V (2009)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-21
Updated: 2011-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-19 18:37:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/204011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badass_normal/pseuds/badass_normal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of (mostly) unrelated drabbles. Just needed a place to gather them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lusting (Erica/Hobbes)

He can’t help himself. She’s noticed that.

There’s heat in the way his eyes rake over her, the sexy burn of his gaze as he follows her fingers strapping on the gun, the curve of her legs. He does this often, blatantly staring, mentally undressing her, not bothering to be subtle.

It turns her on, his naked, unabashed lusting after her. She basks in the guilty pleasure of being utterly objectified, desired. The way he looks at her feels like foreplay, and she has a sneaking suspicion that soon they’ll see this mutual, explosive spark through to its logical conclusion.


	2. The Beginning of the End (Anna)

She imagines that she is like an infant, experiencing things for the first time. She trembles, her eyes burn, her head spins, her throat aches from screaming. She doesn’t like it one bit.

The crimson clouds swirl violently around her ship, flashing the same obscenity of _emotion_ she is…feeling. Feeling. The image of her wrecked eggs sears across her eyelids, and the rage spikes exponentially along with the disorienting _human_ grief.

Her anger streaks the sky, the beginning of her vengeance shining down on the unwitting creatures below, as any rationality slips away. Truly the most terrifying thing of all.


	3. Melt (Joshua/Lisa)

“You’re very brave, Joshua.”

 

He doesn’t like how her fingers under his chin make him feel. He has known her for too long, has watched her fall in love with a human male.

One day, he will be her subject. Even now, he will obey her. It can never be anything more.

 

She doesn’t like how his earnest, penetrating eyes make her feel. How she wants to touch him in a different way, not with this regal, forced decorum. He is her mentor, and he worships her.

These sensations are unnatural for their kind, weak. Forbidden.

 

“Thank you, my Queen.”


	4. Apex (Lisa, (Joshua, Tyler). Erica, (Hobbes, Jack).)

The Bliss rains down outside them, and Lisa looks at Joshua and he looks back. His eyes are soft and— _loving_ —and she’s not sure she can handle that. Not with Tyler weighing on her heart and her infant conscience.

He touches the back of her hand. She gasps.

 

Erica watches Jack descend from the pulpit and feels Hobbes standing behind her protectively.

Or, maybe. Territorially.

She should turn a blind eye to this dangerous and thrilling dynamic that has risen up between the three of them. It would be safer that way.

But, safe? Is not her style.


	5. Wasted Years (Tyler)

He alternates between crying and catatonia during the drive back home.

Joe, (not Dad, never again), hadn’t even tried to get him to stay. Not that it'd matter.

And Mom…everything he spent his life believing and loving has shattered into fragments of a woman he doesn’t know.

A liar. A _cheater_.

This is the sort of thing that happens in soaps. Not in real life. Not to him. Not to his _mom_ , his kickass, law-abiding, obnoxiously well-behaved mom.

No wonder Joe left. No fucking wonder.

He slumps onto the ground by the door. Faith and trust in anything, gone.


	6. Hobbes' Body (Erica/Hobbes)

When Erica agrees to let Hobbes borrow her shower she also lends him some of Joe's old clothing because, really, that form-hugging black t-shirt is more _distracting_ than she's comfortable admitting to his face.

Even more distracting is when she catches him emerging from the shower in only a towel, droplets of water clinging to his clean skin, biceps relaxed but _still so fucking prominent_ , muscles rippling along his bare torso.

A reminder of how long it has been since she's gotten laid throbs between her legs, and as soon as he's gone she herself jumps into a cold shower.


	7. Howl (Erica/Hobbes/Jack)

Jack’s hands are on her thighs, Hobbes’ clutching her hips. They synchronize their movements for her sake and she grips the nape of Jack’s neck and rests her head against Hobbes’ hard chest. He growls something dirty in her ear and Jack echoes her needy whimpers. Hobbes reaches around and works her clit as he fucks her until she’s dangerously close to screaming, until Jack smothers any noise she might make with a desperate kiss.

A priest and a mercenary. The metaphorical angel and devil on her shoulder. This is at once insanity and the only thing holding her together.


	8. Harbinger (Ensemble)

The sky swirls angry above them and their faces are bathed rusty in the glow.

Jack is too horrified to cross himself.

Tyler panics. The Vs are up there, that red can't be good for them.

Kyle reaches for his gun. Finally, this clandestine warfare is progressing into something real.

Erica theorizes, wonders why and what.

Chad hangs his head and guilt claws into his lungs like it matters.

Anna closes her eyes as the blood of her unborn children drenches the heavens.

And the color shifts and flashes into the void of space. Death blinks down at them all.


	9. Eviscerated (Amy, Anna, Erica)

If she doesn’t watch her hands, it’s easy to numb out the memory of Ryan Nichols as Amy’s skin and scales peel off beneath her knife and fingers.

Anna’s face is refusing to move. Erica matches her.

( _You killed my children_.)

There’s so much blood. It doesn’t smell like human blood, but she has known it wouldn’t.

When Erica slices through Amy’s tail, Anna’s mouth twitches, and then Amy can’t scream anymore.

After the child’s corpse splatters onto the floor, Erica wipes her hands on Anna’s dress, savors the wet agony in her eyes, whispers, “now, you’re _exactly_ like me.”


	10. Plus One (Erica, Hobbes)

Hobbes finds her outside, vomiting. Again.

“Four days in a row,” he comments flatly. “Correction. Four _mornings_ in a row.”

She wipes her mouth, turns to leave. He catches her wrist.

“Erica, I’ve got no say in this, but do you want to be responsible for yet another life?”

“You know it’s yours, right?”

He grips her wrist tighter. “Don’t do this for the wrong reasons.” There’s a little agony in his voice, but “that,” he gestures impersonally to her stomach, “can’t replace Tyler.”

A quick sob escapes her. Because he’s right, and it’s becoming unforgivably selfish to pretend otherwise.


	11. A Woman Scorned (Erica/Hobbes)

Erica tosses Hobbes’ photo onto the interrogation table. “Am I supposed to care about her any more than you cared about Joe?” she snarls, the rage and grief of everything about his betrayal suffocating her from within.

She almost admits that Sarah’s dead and it was her fault. She almost _screams_ it. Because she wants him to hit her, attack her. Anything that’ll give her an excuse to murder him.

Instead, she throws him down on the table, onto Sarah’s photo, straddles him. Fucking him now would be crueler than killing him, anyway. He’s the one who taught her that.


	12. Trust In You (Erica, Marcus)

For the minute she’s standing up on the stage, Marcus’ hand on her shoulder, half of her is seized by carefully concealed panic. The other half lingers on her first memory of Marcus. On charging through an oblivious crowd, tackling his assailant, wishing she could allow an enemy to be murdered. Shaking his hand, seeing genuine gratitude in his eyes, surprise that a skeptical human would save his life. 

Essentially, she knows Marcus too well to hate him. He’s trusted her, and when the minute is up, his blood spraying all over her face leaves her more numb than satisfied.


	13. A Hard and a Soft Place (Erica/Hobbes, Erica/Jack)

Jack touches her everywhere and Kyle watches, wondering why he’s never wanted to be capable of this _gentleness_ that Erica’s apparently grateful for. 

“Look at me.” His hand cups her chin and she freezes. He imagines threading his fingers through the drying blood in her hair, catching and unintentionally yanking. From him, she’d probably be more comfortable with that perfunctory roughness than this lighter touch. 

But that’s the three of them, and she’ll fall somewhere between priest and mercenary, shooting for whatever’s necessary in each moment. 

And he’ll just pretend it doesn’t bother him when Jack’s the one she needs.


	14. Rumor Has It (Erica, Chris)

“I don’t think I can sleep. Not tonight.”

Chris gently sits her on his couch. “Well, I _probably_ couldn’t sex you to sleep as effectively as a big, strong, heterosexual mercenary might—”

Her stomach flops. “Excuse me?”

“Surveillance.” She considers punching the smirk off his face. “America’s most wanted man, naked in your kitchen?”

She meets his eyes. Cringes. “Shit. How much trouble am I in?”

He shrugs. “Desperate times call for desperate measures. If I had my pick of infamous terrorists, I’d bang Hobbes too.” 

It isn’t funny, not really, but for the first time in weeks she laughs.


	15. Mutually (Erica, Lisa)

They’ve both lost Tyler to her mother’s Bliss, but it’s Lisa’s turn to offer what strength she has. 

Three weeks ago she came to Mrs. Evans, poured out her heart, fell into her arms. She tries to remember exactly what Mrs. Evans did for her, both physically and emotionally. 

And when she sees the tears in Mrs. Evans’ eyes, she finds it in her to step forward and embrace her as tightly as she can manage with their height difference. Mrs. Evans sobs into her shoulder, and Lisa can give back what she once received. 

She’s had a good teacher.


	16. The Railroad (Erica/Joe. Historical AU.)

She makes up the beds, provides what food they have. It’s a family of six tonight. They thank her, bless her. She merely smiles and bids them good night. 

Joe is sitting in their bedroom, his gun on the nightstand. 

“Every day, this becomes more dangerous,” he says, without looking at her, “the consequences more severe.”

She folds her arms under her breasts. “We agreed to do what we could to combat slavery.”

“There are ways to do so without hosting fugitives, putting our lives at risk.”

“If we won’t, then who will?” Erica whispers, and the conversation is over.


	17. Let V Stand For... (Anna, Erica)

The barrel of Anna’s gun is between Erica’s eyes, and cameras are flashing.

“You should go through with it,” Erica grins, merciless and giddy. “Execute the terrorist. You know humans so well, right? We love _justice_.”

Anna blinks. _Hesitates_. “Martyrdom suits you, Agent Evans. How tragic, that it’s the only use your race has left for you.”

There _has_ been so much loss, so much failure, but when she glances at the reporters, enough of them look disillusioned that she’ll finally acknowledge a victory. 

“Then shut up and shoot me, you fucking reptile,” she orders. “What’ve you got to lose?”


	18. How Traditions Die (Erica, Tyler)

She really tries. Buys the ingredients, sets them on the counter. Counts out fifteen candles. 

That’s as far as she gets before she can’t see through the tears. 

Two months ago, Tyler declared that they were no longer a family. A Breakfast Cake isn’t going to change that, won’t make Joe suddenly a presence in their house again.

She’s tempted to collapse forward onto the kitchen island and spend the day facedown on the granite, sobbing. It’s a familiar urge. 

Tyler eats his scrambled eggs and doesn’t mention cake. Just for today, she chooses to be relieved instead of worried.


	19. My Condolences (Brandon, Erica)

Mrs. Evans looks surprised to see him. 

“Er, my mom sent me over with this.” Brandon indicates the dish he’s holding. “And with her condolences about Mr. Evans,” he adds. “I guess it’s, like, etiquette to cook for people when they’re grieving?”

She smiles. “It’s good to see you, Brandon.” 

“So Tyler’s living up on the ship now?” 

“Yeah.” She kind of chokes on the word. 

Brandon passes the food to her. “As gay as this sounds, would you tell the bastard I miss him?”

“Sure.” He notices her fingers shaking as they grip the dish. “Thanks for the meal.”


	20. A Friend Indeed (Dale, Erica)

“You _always_ want the fries, woman. _Without fail_. Why don’t you order your own instead of pilfering mine? It’s not like you’re one of those girls who’s too embarrassed to eat.” 

Erica grabs another handful. “I never want them until I see them. Then there’s just no stopping it.” 

Dale tears into his burger. She sneaks a gulp of his milkshake. 

“Besides,” she continues, swallowing some of her own burger. “I paid tonight.” 

“It’s the principle of the thing,” he protests. “You know I’d never let my wife get away with snatching my food.”

“Good thing I’m not your wife.”


	21. Want (Erica/(Jack))

When Erica dials Jack’s number, she has no idea what she’s going to say, if there’s anything she can say. She’s already promised herself that she wouldn’t call to apologize, or to try to explain her actions again. 

All she knows is that the photo of Will Learner’s smiling face is suddenly making her feel hollow and queasy, and she wants to hear Jack say that she’s doing well, that he’s on her side, that she’ll be okay. She wants to hear his voice. 

She wants _him_ , and he doesn’t answer, and her heart becomes just a little bit harder.


	22. Take (Erica/Jack)

She’s fucked a terrorist her agency’s been trying to take down for years. On paper, that looks really bad.

When she urges Jack into her bed a week later? That’s actually worse. At least Hobbes knew why she was screwing him. Hell, he actually _approved_. 

Jack isn’t Hobbes; he’s not cynical enough to understand and accept why, or even _that_ , she’s using him, and he’s certainly not wretched enough to deserve it.

But he’s the only one left, and she’s in too much pain to care. So Erica takes what she needs and hopefully she’ll deal with her conscience later.


	23. Have (Erica/Jack)

The cross on his bedside table catches her eye. 

“Tell me to stop,” Erica whispers against his throat. “Please.”

His fingers slip under her bra, lips parting as he feels her nipple hardening under his thumb. She gasps, her hips gently rock against his. 

“I don’t want to,” Jack breathes into her hair. His free hand pulls her more tightly to him, his erection pressing against her pelvis through their clothing. 

She kisses down his chest, tasting him, savoring every noise he makes. 

And he stops her, for just a moment. “You’ve got me, Erica,” he says quietly. “I promise.”


	24. Keep (Erica/Jack)

She’s delirious from the blood loss. That’s why she’s snuggling so close to Jack while he’s trying to stitch up her stomach. It’s comfortable, which is weird, considering she’s just had a bullet pried from her gut. 

“You keeping me alive, Doctor Jack?” Erica slurs, resting her head on his knee. 

He softly kisses her forehead. “No more than you’ve been fighting to keep the _rest_ of us alive.” He goes back to her wound. “Just stay awake, okay? Can you do that for me?” 

She stops her eyes from drifting closed. “ _Hell_ yeah, I can do that for you.”


	25. Lose (Erica/Jack)

“Hey, look at what’s on.” 

Erica joins Hobbes on the couch, drink in her hand. She’s expecting Chad Decker’s face, some kind of tragedy for them or triumph for Anna or—

It’s not. It looks like a period drama, something romantic. “What is this?”

Hobbes watches her, face unreadable. Finally, “you never saw _The Thorn Birds_? I’m surprised you weren’t creaming yourself over it on a regular basis before—”

She backhands him so hard her knuckles hurt. 

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” she whispers. 

He holds up his hands defensively. “Okay, okay. Too soon.”

She bites her lip until it bleeds again.


End file.
